Papa
by Kuma Braginski
Summary: When Gilbert met that sweet purple-eyed Canadian across the bar, Gilbert had no doubt that he was the most beautiful guy alive, and Gilbert swore to make Matthew his. Gilbert thinks it's a picture perfect relationship. Such a shame Gilbert doesn't know about Matthew's sugar daddy.


"Francis, I really don't want to go out tonight."

Gilbert didn't entirely mean that statement, but it wasn't a total lie either. He _was_ rather content on his couch in his house, only boxers and headset on as he fiddled with a remote controller to a first-person shooter, and particularly so after a rather long and strangely difficult day at the mechanic repair shop. Boy, was the black grease hard to get out of his stupidly white hair.

But despite being rather comfortable, he didn't despise the idea of going out for a beer in a loud environment, drunk people screaming happily as teams won on the television, the calm bartender who long since stopped caring how intoxicated someone became, funny scenes between couples in fights, and even cute boys every now and then. He really enjoyed bars. Beer, sports, conversation, and entertainment. What was there not to enjoy?

What he_ didn't_ like was going drinking with Francis. Don't get him wrong, Francis was one of his two best friends. But when drunk... well, he certainly wasn't the funnest to be around. If he was around at all, that is. Usually Francis would go around the bar, look for the most attractive one in the bar, and talk his way into their pants. And it really sucked being left alone at a bar, having no one to laugh with and no one to stumble outside with, laughing and talking. Rather, being alone in a bar entailed having to stagger out alone, laughing to yourself and looking like a raging drunk. But what was even worse was when Francis didn't find someone to have sex with. Now, Francis wasn't some shameless, sex-deprived, perverted pig; he was caring, loving, kind- everything cheesy and stereotypical for a Frenchman. But when drunk, he happened to have the misfortune of being terribly lustful. Not to the point of forcing someone into sex- that wasn't like Francis at all. But, uncomfortable closeness, touches going a bit too far... that was what he was like. As said before, Gilbert was best friends with Francis, been through a lot and closer than two peas in a pod. But not that close.

Why Francis didn't invite Antonio was beyond Gilbert. Why did Francis only want Gilbert to come? Or, maybe Francis had originally asked Antonio, and he had the exact same logic Gilbert did. It wasn't impossible. Either that, or he was with Lovino, the biggest douche ever. To everyone but his brother and Antonio, of course. As much as he acted like he hated Antonio in public, and called him names with a stubborn attitude of not wanting any positive feelings about anybody, it was obvious to everyone he was helplessly in love with Antonio. And Antonio was just patient and stupid enough to love him back. Gilbert felt pretty pathetic that he was jealous about Antonio finding someone to be with. As much as he hated to admit it, since he was- of course- way too awesome to admit something so stupid, he really wanted a lover. Call him desperate, needy, anything you wanted, but that was how he felt, and you can't arrest someone for feeling.

"_Please, _Gilbert!" Francis whined over the phone, making the speaker crackle a bit. "Antonio wouldn't go with me because he was with Lovino!" Well, that answered Gilbert's question. "I really need a drink..."

"What'd you do now?" It was a jest, but Francis took it a bit too seriously.

"Making rude retorts at Kirkland today." He sighed. "I figured he'd make some back, like he does everyday, but guess what he did. Guess what he did, Gilbert!"

Gilbert mentally swore at Francis, because the phone call was enough of a distraction for some obnoxious kid to shoot him while he wasn't completely paying attention, screaming through his headphones and saying some stupid shit probably referencing some sort of meme. "Punched you in the face?"

"Ugh! I wish!" Gilbert heard some sort of flop, probably Francis hopping back first onto the bed in a form of drama. He always was one to overdo things. "He said- and I _quote-_" this is when he began his terrible excuse for a British accent. "-'I'm sick of you always up in my bloody face! Why d'you always have to ridicule me?! I don't have to deal with this anymore, so I quit!' And he just up and left! Who _does_ that?!"

"Any sane person on this planet?"

"Dammit, Gilbert, you're not helping! How the hell am I supposed to find someone to help me?! That paperwork is due tomorrow and half of it's not done!"

Jeez, Gilbert was really trapped here, wasn't he?

"Alright, alright, I'll go to the bar with you if you just shut your French ass up. 'Cause of you I got some nine-year-old riding my shit crack and saying stuff about my mom or some other stupid thing."

* * *

Gilbert hadn't expected anything different. There was Francis, across the room, chatting up some random girl while piss drunk. He had pretty much downed fifty drinks the second he walked in. Didn't he know drinking your problems away is a horrible way of coping?

"Ah, you don't just have regular water?" A gentle voice rang next to him. It was hard to hear among the sound of people mingling, but Gilbert heard it plenty.

Water? In a bar? Why would you go to a bar to get water? You go to a bar to get smashed with your friends, maybe find a one night stand or some drugs in the alley behind. You don't just get _water_.

"Sorry, kid." The bartender sounded rather uninterested.

Gilbert turned around, looking at the bartender. Why would the bartender lie about having water? Of course he had water. What else would someone drink between shots? He gave the bartender a look, and the bartender just stared him down with an expression of indifference. He looked in the direction of the guy who had asked for water, revealing a lithe boy with curly blond hair and a stray curl.

For a second, the boy looked over at Gilbert, and they looked each other in the eyes. He couldn't help but notice how nice the boy's eyes were- a sort of purple blue with glasses lying in front. He was only able to look at them for so long, though, before the boy seemed to get embarrassed and look away.

Gilbert thought about the boy for a long time. He just sat there. He wasn't even looking at anything in particular. Why did that even draw Gilbert's attention, let alone agitate him slightly? He wasn't mad at the boy, so to speak, but rather the bartender. Why didn't he just give the kid some water? Gilbert had gotten water plenty of times. Before he could really think, he called over the bartender from the other end of the counter.

"Glass of water?" He asked, showing the bartender his empty beer mug. The bartender just nodded, disappearing for a second or two and returning with a cup full of the tasteless, clear liquid.

After a thank you was thrown out, the bartender went to care for a drunken customer that had called him over. Gilbert glanced at the boy who had asked for water, noting that he hadn't paid any attention to what he had just gotten.

Unsure of the reason why, Gilbert waited a few seconds. The boy didn't say anything. Had he really expected anything different?

He slid the glass over to in front of the boy, who seemed to be acutely startled once it was in his peripheral vision. The boy blinked at it, studying it for a moment before flicking his gaze to Gilbert. He looked grateful, of course, but he also looked really, really confused.

"Uh..." Gilbert found himself feeling a light dust of pink on his cheeks. "I heard you ask for water, but the bartender didn't give you any, so I got some for you."

The boy lowered his gaze to the cup again, then back to Gilbert.

"Oh." He said, voice lower and shyer than when he had asked the bartender for a drink. "Thank you very much, sir."

A small smile was flashed Gilbert's way, before the same lips took a bit of water. That boy sure did have a pair of very nice looking lips.

"Just call me Gilbert." He grinned, looking at how beautiful the boy was.

He was very shy, apparently. Shy, quiet, introverted; anything along those lines. Usually Gilbert didn't prefer to talk to those kinds of people, but this soft-spoken boy was definitely too pretty to ignore. Gilbert also didn't usually care much about looks, but with the bit of alcohol he had consumed swimming around in his mind- well, he was certainly not having the most innocent thoughts. A beautiful face could always become more beautiful when framed by bed sheets, after all.

"Well then; thank you very much, Gilbert. I'm Matthew" Another smile was flashed in his direction. "It was very kind of you to get me some water."

"Thank you, but it wasn't really kind, just sort of something anyone would do. Really, I have no idea why the bartender wouldn't get you some water." Gilbert flickered his gaze to the bartender, who was tending to another customer. "Speaking of which, since you asked for some water, you don't seem like the bar type. Why are you here?"

Matthew sighed, looking slightly agitated and closed his eyes. "Yeah, I'm not the drinking type- my brother forced me to come. Little did I know he was meeting up with his boyfriend who quit his job today. Said he needed a drink. A drink morphed into forty and now they've been in the bathroom for an uncomfortably long time."

Gilbert found it increasingly difficult to hold in his laughter. "Oh, wow, that really sucks."

"You can laugh if you want." Matthew giggled, taking a sip of water. "It really is sort of a funny situation."

Gilbert snickered, thinking of how cute Matthew's giggles were.

Throughout his life, Gilbert was always told not to stare, but Matthew was truly a sight. Every word to describe something magnificent could fit him perfectly. Gilbert had really never seen a more perfect complexion. Sure, it's been said a lot, but boy did Gilbert really like Matthew's face.

Matthew caught Gilbert staring at him, and met his eyes once more with a blush and a smile adorning his face. They just gazed at each other for a long time, simply enjoying the others' presence.

* * *

"G-Gilbert!" Matthew cried out as Gilbert continued to thrust into that one pleasurable part of him mercilessly. His grip on the sheets left his knuckles white and palms throbbing, much like his weeping member that threatened to release soon.

The heat pooling in his stomach increased with every grunt and hip movement the man above him would make, a moan spilling out of his own mouth to match. His mind was clouded with lust, and neither of the men could find a way to open their eyes.

The pleasure became unbearable and Matthew cried out Gilbert's name a final time before releasing himself, his semen finding a way onto his chest. His muscles inside of him convulsed around Gilbert, and it too became too much to handle, and he came inside of Matthew, his seed spreading inside of Matthew.

Broken pants and gasps escaped their mouths, and Gilbert pulled out, flopping to Matthew's side. Matthew could feel his release drip out of him, going onto him sheets. But really Matthew couldn't find it within him to care. Right now, he was coming down from his high, and that was very tiring.

* * *

**hi**

**i came up with this idea in the shower a couple days ago**

**should thirteen year olds be coming up with ideas like these in the first place ?**

**probably not**

**should thirteen year olds even know what a sugar daddy is ?**

**probably not**

**should thirteen year olds write a new story rather than continuing the ones she hasnt updated since the dawn of time ?**

**probably not**

**should thirteen year olds not proofread their work ?**

**probably not**

**do i do all of these things anyway ?**

**yes**

**with love,**

**~kuma**


End file.
